Before Romero, before voodoo got Hollywood’d, there was White Zombie. Bela Lugosi looms as Murder Legendre (yes, really), a plantation sorcerer who turns souls into slaves with a stare and a handful of powder. Shot in eerie silence and shadow, this is the birth cry of the zombie genre—creaky, colonial, and undeniably hypnotic. It’s not clean. It’s not kind. But it’s cinema history clawing out of the grave. Lugosi doesn’t act—he haunts, wide-eyed and unblinking, like death in a tuxedo.